


Missing A Few Buttons

by gumiworm



Category: Coraline (2009), Coraline - Neil Gaiman, Invader Zim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21858136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumiworm/pseuds/gumiworm
Summary: Based on an AU created by @ollisuu (via insta)The Membranes move into their new home over summer break. Dib struggles to get settled in until he begins to have strange dreams of a mirrored world. But are these really dreams, or are they something more sinister?
Kudos: 7





	1. Exploration

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to @ollisuu for allowing me to write a fanfic based on their wonderful crossover au! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib explores the grounds of the Pink Palace and meets a strange, green kid.

It was a gloomy, overcast day when Dib and his family moved into the Pink Palace. It was a very old house - it had an attic under the roof, and a cellar beneath the ground, and an overgrown garden with huge, tangled trees in it.

The Membrane family didn’t own all of the house - it was too big for that. Instead, they simply owned part of it that was made into a spacious flat.

There were other people who lived in the Pink Palace.

There was a family who lived in the flat upstairs in what used to be the attic. But Dib hadn’t had the chance to meet them, whoever they may be.

And there was Miss Bitters and the Countess, who lived in the flat below Dib’s, in what used to be the cellar. They were both old and thin, and they lived in their flat with a number of small, plump hamsters who had names like Peepi and Fluffy and Sock.

Dib had only spoken with them a couple of times; once when he and his family came to tour the house, and today when they moved in.

“Hello again, Gilbert.” Miss Bitters greeted from the stairwell leading down to her flat as Dib passed by, hands full with heavy cardboard boxes (his father insisted that they helped the movers).

“Hi, Miss Bitters.” Dib said with a sigh, not bothering to correct her when she got his name wrong.

After all the boxes were brought in and the movers left with their big truck, Dib went out and explored the grounds. 

He explored the garden with great enthusiasm. It was a big garden but Dib wasn’t sure if it could be called a ‘garden’. There were very few plants around, and the few plants that were there were dead or dying. 

Although, there was a nice, full bush near the rusting iron gateway that made up the entry of the miserable garden. The bush had bright orange and yellow leaves despite the fact that it was summer.

It’s probably dying too, Dib thought to himself.

He found a loose branch hanging low on the bush and pulled it off with ease. The branch had a ‘Y’ shape to it, making it useful as a dowsing rod.

Dib had never used a dowsing rod or dowsed for anything before. But he had read about people who did and he found the idea of it all very interesting. He was always interested in strange, arbitrary things like that - especially things that were paranormal.

He held the dowsing rod out in front of him and closed his eyes. He supposed that when people dowsed for things, they would feel a kind of tugging at their soul or at their edges. He thought he should probably think of something to dowse for, and so he thought of the old well.

Miss Bitters and the Countess had made a point to tell him about how dangerous it was, and to be sure that he kept away from it. So Dib thought he’d dowse for it and find it, so he knew where it was and could keep away from it properly.

Dib felt something, or perhaps he thought he felt it. But it was a vague, intangible feeling of something or someone tugging him forward.

And so he followed it.

The dowsing rod led him out of the garden and up a craggy hill. The cobblestone walkway gave way to a muddy dirt path, and Dib had to be careful not to trip over stones and tree roots.

A rock fell from a mound of mossy boulders and rolled down in front of Dib. He stared up at the boulders, wondering what could have dislodged the rock. He picked it up, tossed it in his hands to test its weight, and threw it back where it came from. 

A loud yowl that sounded too much like a mountain lion erupted from somewhere behind the boulders. Dib didn’t hesitate to start running. He knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun a mountain lion but maybe he could find somewhere to hide or someone to help. That’s what he was hoping at least.

He ran through an orchard of apple trees, past a rundown, rusty tractor, and an old harvest cart that he nearly tripped over. He ran until the path gave way to a large clearing that sat on the edge of a small cliff. There wasn’t anything in the clearing except a rotting tree stump and a ring of brown mushrooms.

He stood inside the ring of mushrooms and glanced around anxiously for any signs of movement. He had read somewhere about rings of mushrooms and flowers, but he didn’t remember much of what he read. But perhaps they acted as a shield of protection or a portal to another world.

There was another loud yowl, but this time it came from behind him. Dib nearly jumped out of his skin. He grasped his dowsing rod tightly as he turned around, intending to hit whatever may be there. But when he didn’t see a mountain lion and instead saw a black house cat standing on the stump, he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“You scared me to death, you mangy thing!” Dib scolded the cat. The cat growled at him before relaxing and sitting down. Dib sighed.

“I’m just looking for an old well. Know it?” Dib asked. The cat blinked at him slowly but, of course, it didn’t speak.

“Not talking, huh?” He gave the cat a skeptical look before lifting the dowsing rod. He closed his eyes and lifted the branch above his head. 

“Magic dowser, magic dowser, show me the well!” The wind suddenly picked up, last autumn’s dead leaves flying around wildly. The sky flashed with lightning and a deafening crash of thunder erupted from the dark clouds. 

Dib’s eyes shot open at the sound and it was then that he saw a dark figure standing on the tree-lined hill nearby. He couldn’t make out what they looked like but their eyes glowed and they seemed to have horns on their head.

“A demon?” Dib questioned under his breath. The cat was hissing and growling horribly from behind him. He knew that animals were sensitive to otherworldly things, so this most definitely had to be a demon of some kind.

The demon jumped down the hill and began to run towards him. 

“Get away from me!” Dib swung at the demonic creature with the branch. It grabbed the forked branch from him and pushed him to the ground. It jumped up on the tree stump where the cat had been and stared down at Dib, as if observing him. 

Lightning flashed across the sky again and, in the split second of light, Dib saw that it wasn’t a demon after all. It was just some short kid with a strange pair of chunky goggles with radio antennae sticking up from the sides. They were wearing some kind of weird pink dress with princess puff sleeves, black leggings, and matching rubber gloves and boots. This fashion choice lead Dib to believe that this kid was a girl.

“A girl?” Dib question, sitting up in the mud. The kid took their goggles off in one swift movement and gave him a weird look. It was only then that Dib realized the kid didn't have a nose and their skin was green, or maybe that was just the light playing tricks on his eyes.

“A girl?” The kid said in a voice that most definitely wasn’t a girl’s. “Where?”

“Wait, what?” Dib shook his head, confused.

“The cat was here so that disgusting girl must be around somewhere.” The kid said as if this was common knowledge. “Ugh, it doesn’t matter! Who are you?” He pointed the forked branch down at Dib aggressively. “And what is this thing?”

“It’s a dowsing rod.” Dib grumbled before grabbing the branch and pulling it away from the strange kid. He pulled himself to his feet and held his hand out. “And I’m Dib. I just moved here.”

The kid gave Dib’s hand a questioning look until Dib awkwardly dropped his hand back to his side.

“Well, Dib,” The kid said his name as if disgusted to have it on his tongue. “I’m the amazing Zim, but you already knew that.” Zim smirked, obviously very happy to toot his own horn.

“Who?” Dib asked, silently overjoyed to see Zim’s overconfidence shatter.

“I am Zim! Zim is the best!” Zim shouted down at Dib from his rotting stump of a pedestal.

“The best at what exactly?” Dib questioned, twisting the dowsing rod around in his hands.

“Filthy worm baby, of course you wouldn’t understand.” Zim growled, scowling at Dib.

“Worm baby?” Dib repeated quietly before shaking his head. “Listen, I only came up here to find the old well, not to be berated by narcissistic weirdos!” He stomped on the ground as if the get his point across.

“Stomp too hard and you’ll fall in,” Zim warned, looking at Dib’s muddy shoes.

“Wha- Oh!” Dib looked down and backed out of the ring of mushrooms quickly. Zim hopped down from the stump and crouched down beside the well. He dug away the mud  
covering the top of the wooden planks that covered the well.

“See?” Zim said, knocking on the wet, old wood.

“Huh,” Dib said softly. 

“Well, it’s great to meet yet another bumbling flesh doll, but I have more important things to do than see you struggle to survive on your own miserable dirt ball of a planet.” Zim insulted as he stood up and glanced Dib over.

“What do you mean by that?” Dib asked, brow furrowing.

“Look at you, you don’t even know!” Zim cackled.

“Know what?” Dib shouted, growing irritated.

“That ‘dowsing rod’ of yours? It’s poisonous oak.” Zim pointed out before walking away.

“Ah!” Dib immediately dropped the branch and wiped his hands on his trench coat. He watched as Zim disappeared into the apple orchard and stuck his tongue out at him.

He looked back down at the well cover and saw that one of the boards had a large knothole in it. He spent the afternoon just finding small rocks and acorns and dropping them down into the well and waiting for the distinctive sound of them hitting the water.


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib spends a rainy day exploring the house and discovers a small, strange door.

The rain had started to come pouring down as soon as the sun set and it continued on well after the sun had risen the next morning.

Dib stared out of the window above the kitchen sink, watching fat raindrops hit the glass and roll down slowly like slugs. His father was seated at the round kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

“I almost fell down a well yesterday, dad.” Dib started, bored and wanting to talk to someone. He scratched at the rash on his hand as he spoke, most definitely just making it worse.

“Uh huh,” Dib’s father said absentmindedly, obviously not listening.

“I could have died.” Dib continued, turning to look at his father.

“That’s nice, son.” His father continued to type away, not even giving Dib a glance. Dib sighed before perking up a bit.

“Can I go out? I think it’s perfect weather for hunting sasquatches.” Dib motioned towards the window.

“No, Dib. Rain makes mud, and mud makes a mess.” His father said plainly.

“But dad, everyone knows that sasquatches love the rain.”

“Everyone, huh?” His father gave him a look, and Dib groaned.

“I can’t believe it,” Dib muttered before speaking clearly. “You get paid to do scientific research but you won’t even give the paranormal a passing thought.”

His father stopped typing, clearing losing his patience.

“Dib, I don’t have time for you right now. And you still have unpacking to do,” His father leaned over the table and spoke in a clear, irritated tone. “Lots of unpacking.”

“That sounds exciting.” Dib rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Oh,” His father said as if suddenly remembering something. “A strange, green child left this for you.” He put a hand into his lab coat pocket and produced something wrapped in last week’s newspaper. Dib took it curiously, unwrapping it a bit to find an attached note that read:

_Dib-stick,_

_My dog was playing with this. I don’t know where he found it but it obviously belongs to you. You humans are so unorganized; it’s disgusting, really._

_\- The Amazing Zim_

Dib huffed at the note and removed the newspaper completely, revealing a hand-stitched doll that looking strangely identical to him.

“A little me?” He picked the doll up gently, turning it over in his hands to examine it. It was made of a soft flour sack material with dark brown yarn for hair and two big black buttons for eyes.

“Weird…” Dib commented softly. He wondered if perhaps it was a voodoo doll. But who could have made it? And why give it to him?

“What’s his name, anyways?” His father asked suddenly.

“Zim,” Dib said with a bit of disgust. “I think he might be an alien.” 

“Hmm,” His father hummed in response before continuing to work on his computer.

Dib left the kitchen and made his way through the flat to the living room, taking the strange doll with him. He found his sister sitting on the couch, pressing buttons in a rhythmic manner on her Game Slave 2.

“Hey, Gaz,” Dib greeted, standing in the doorway of the living room. After a few seconds of no response, he repeated her name. “Gaz?”

“What, Dib?” Gaz said, glancing up at her brother and giving the doll in his hands a questioning look. “And Dib doll…?” She shook her head and kept playing her game.

“D’you know where my sasquatch hunting tools are?” Dib asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“It’s pouring out there, isn’t it?” Gaz asked.

“It’s just rain,” Dib argued.

“What did dad say?”

“Don’t even think about going outside, Dib Membrane!” Dib mockingly scolded the doll in his hands.

"Then I guess you won’t be needing your dumb tools.” Gaz replied.

Dib groaned and leaned on the doorframe, making it squeak. He smirked and began to push against the doorframe repeatedly, purposely trying to annoy his sister. Gaz scowled and looked up at him, obviously fed up.

“Look, this house is hundreds of years old,” She started.

“So?” Dib questioned.

“So, you like old, creepy things; explore it.” She sat up and pulled a blank piece of paper from her sketchbook and a spare pencil. She held them out for Dib to take.

“Count all the doors and windows and write them down.” She explained before adding. “List everything blue! Just let me play my game.”

Dib pouted and reluctantly took the paper and pencil from her. He left the living room, doll held snugly under his arm, and began his scavenger hunt.

He made his way down the hallway that led to the front door and connected to all the main rooms on the ground floor. There was a long rug that ran the length of the hall. Near   
the staircase that led upstairs to the bedrooms was a bit of the carpet that bunch up into a bump. Dib jumped onto it, hoping to make it disappear but it simply became two bumps. He sighed and walked further down the hall and entered the sunroom.

The sunroom had several windows that lined the wall opposite the door. Dib counted the windows and wrote the number down. There wasn’t anything in the sunroom except lots of big moving boxes. 

He left the sunroom and entered the laundry room that sat adjacent to the sunroom. The washing machine and dryer were old and rusting at the edges. There were cobwebs in the corners and a fine layer of dust on everything. Dib hoped there weren’t any spiders hiding about; he hated to admit it but he was a bit of an arachnophobe.

After finding no spiders or other creepy crawlies and writing down the single small window that lived in the laundry room, Dib left and made his way upstairs. He jumped on the carpet bump again as he passed it before bounding up the winding staircase.

He peeked his head into his father’s room but found it empty. He cautiously stepped inside, daring to poke around despite knowing that he very well shouldn’t. But it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong; he was just counting windows and doors and anything blue. Besides, most of his father’s things were still hidden away in neatly packaged cardboard boxes. The only thing of real interest in the room was a photograph that sat on the bedside table. It was a photo from some odd number of years ago, when he and Gaz were younger and his father wasn’t as busy. They seemed so happy in the picture, Dib almost didn’t recognize himself or his family. 

There were two more doors in the room: one that led to a small walk-in closet and one that led to a private bathroom. The bathroom smelled horribly of mildew and bleach, as if someone had tried to clean it but gave up halfway through. The wallpaper was yellowing and the tiles were cracked and stained. Dib opened the medicine cabinet that hid behind the bathroom mirror but the only things inside were his father’s razor and toothbrush. He closed it with a bit of disappointment and moved towards the shower. The shower curtain was mildewed and had soap residue on the inside of it. Dib pulled the curtain back to take a look at the inside of the shower. He was horrified to find countless silverfish crawling about in the tub and on the walls.

“Eugh!” He cried before slapping his hands against the wall, crushing only a few of the bugs. The silverfish quickly scattered and disappeared through cracks in the walls. Dib looked at his bug guts covered hands and scrunched up his face in disgust. He turned the bath faucet on and waited for water to pour out so he could wash his hands. The water came after a moment of pipes somewhere deep inside the house creaking. Except the water came from the shower head instead of the faucet, soaking Dib’s hair in dirty brown water.

“Ah!” Dib cried in surprise, shaking his head violently. He turned the faucet off and decided it would be better if he just used the sink.

After cleaning his hands, he explored the rest of the rooms upstairs.

There was Gaz’s room but he didn’t dare step inside. Instead, he simply peeked in and counted the single large window and closet door inside. He also noted that the wallpaper was a pale blue.

There was the main bathroom that had three small windows with fogged glass and several blue tiles on the floor, too many for Dib to feel like counting.

There was his father’s study that was currently filled to the brim with moving boxes. Dib was barely able to see the couple of windows inside.

And, finally, there was his own room. He had four large windows and a door for his small closet. He noted the few things in his room that were blue including the paint around the windows and the blanket on his bed.

He made his way downstairs, hopping down the steps of the last flight. He saw the carpet bump again and leapt over the railing to jump on it. The bump finally seemed to disappear and he smiled, satisfied with himself.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention and he turned to see the closet under the stairs open. The light inside was on and the water heater was rattling and humming. Dib noted that the top of the water heater was blue before turning the light off and closing the door.

Suddenly the lights began to flicker and he could hear Gaz from down the hall shouting protests at something before groaning loudly. Dib wasn’t sure what had happened but it must have involved one of her games. Worried that he might have been the reason for the sudden power surge, he went back to the water heater’s closet. He turned the light back on and sure enough there was a poorly taped note above the switch.

**DO NOT TURN OFF!**

Dib left the closet once again, trying his best to act as casual as possible as he walked down the hall. He made his way to the drawing room where they kept all the expensive (and uncomfortable) furniture his grandmother left them when she died. Dib hadn’t really known the woman as he was still just a baby when she passed, but he supposed it was nice of her to give them her things.

The drawing room had a few moving boxes of its own, including a mattress box that rested against one of the walls. There was a small table, several antique chairs, and a heavy rosewood wardrobe.

He counted four narrow windows and a strange painting of a boy in a blue suit dropping ice cream on himself. He didn’t know why anyone would want to have something like that hanging up in their house, but it was from his grandmother so it was practically an obligation to have it hung above the mantle. 

He placed his doll and notes on the small table in the middle of the room. There was a box sitting on the table, and it was full of the snowglobes his father had collected from his travels around the world. Dib took to unpacking them, being careful not to drop them. He placed them on the mantle, putting his favorite one in the middle. It was a snowglobe they had gotten at a gift shop several years ago, the same year that the photograph sitting on his father’s bedside table was taken. He gave the globe a little shake and watched the small flakes of snow and glitter fall down onto the figures inside.

Once the snow had settled, Dib turned back to the table to retrieve his things. He found his notes but the doll was nowhere to be seen. He looked inside the box and around it and then under the table.

“Alright, little me,” Dib started, glancing around the room. “Where are you hiding?”

It was then that he spotted the doll, it’s head peeking out from behind the mattress box. Dib tilted his head, wondering how it could have gotten over there. He moved towards the doll and kneeled down to pick up, catching a glimpse of what was behind the mattress box. He pushed the box aside and found what looked like a tiny door, hidden behind the floral wallpaper.

“Huh,” Dib pressed his hand against the door, curious as to where it might lead.

“Hey, dad!” Dib called, hoping that his father could hear him from across the house. “Where does this door go?”

“I’m really, really busy!” His father shouted back from the kitchen. Dib tried to figure out a way to open it but the door didn’t have a knob. Although, there was a distinctive keyhole.

“I think it’s locked!” Dib shouted before adding a drawn out, “Please!”

His father came into the room after a moment, obviously very annoyed. He looked at Dib then at the small door and crossed his arms.

“Will you stop pestering me if I do this for you?” His father questioned. Dib begged silently with pleading puppy dog eyes. 

“Fine,” His father said simply before leaving the room again. Dib waited impatiently for his return, dreadfully curious about whatever forgotten secrets might be hiding behind that little door.

His father returned with a strange, old, rusty, black key in his hand. He knelt down beside his son and got to work on cutting the wallpaper away from the edges of the door. Once that was done, he stuffed the key in the lock and turned it with some slight effort. The lock made a resounding thunk as it gave way and the door opened. Dib looked in amazement, waiting to be wowed, only to be horribly disappointed.

“Bricks? I don’t get it.” Dib scratched at the rash on his hand as he spoke.

“They must have closed this off when they divided up the house.” His father explained before getting up to leave.

“You’re kidding? And why is the door so small?” Dib questioned, watching his father begin to walk away only for him to turn back around.

“We made a deal. Zip it!” His father scolded, pointing at his son with the old key. He quickly left, heavy footfalls echoing down the hall.

“You didn’t lock it!” Dib pointed out only to gain a loud groan of annoyance from his father.

Dib sighed and slowly pushed the small door closed. He was really hoping the find something interesting, something more to explore.


End file.
